Sidney Chambers and the Perils of the Night (33 page)

‘I do, I suppose.’

‘Supposing isn’t good enough.’

‘Very well, I do.’

Amanda cut in again. ‘You are being very fierce, Sidney. Are you going to ask me all these questions?’

‘Of course. In fact, Amanda, you might find me even tougher when it’s your turn.’

‘I think you’re punishing me for marrying Tony rather than you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Sidney, angry that she should refer directly to their friendship. ‘I am simply making sure that you know what you are doing. Believe me, you’ll thank me for it in the end.’

‘I think we’ll be the judge of that.’

‘No,’ Sidney replied. ‘God will be.’ He couldn’t quite work out what had got into him and why he was so intensely irritated but he wasn’t going to have his faith passed over for the sake of social nicety.

The following Tuesday was a university teaching morning, and Sidney bicycled over to Corpus in good time to put some first-year undergraduates through their theological paces. As he approached the college, he realised that he was unusually early, and thought he would take a detour to see if he could find his colleague Neville Meldrum, the eminent astrophysicist. There were a few questions he wanted to ask.

Professor Meldrum was a man of fastidious precision in his late forties, and he was probably the best-dressed fellow in the college. He wore elegant three-piece suits from Savile Row (his father had been an Edwardian dandy), crisp white shirts with starched collars, and his handmade shoes were beautifully polished.

He was preparing for the morning’s academic work, wiping clean a blackboard in the lecture hall that was filled with calculations Sidney could not hope to understand, setting out monochromatic absorption coefficients and opacities in stellar interiors. Sidney could just about remember the chemical symbols. ‘You should come to a few lectures,’ Meldrum encouraged. ‘It would help you keep abreast of the space race.’

‘It looks very complicated.’

‘No more so than theology and ancient Greek. We could exchange tutorials.’

‘I think I stopped at the periodic table.’

‘You should start again. We’re moving on to discuss dark matter. Although,’ Meldrum paused for effect, ‘I imagine you have dark matters of your own.’

Sidney had forgotten the limitations of Neville Meldrum’s humour but he liked the man for his extreme precision. He spent his life in search of clarity and Sidney knew that he should get to the point as quickly as possible. His colleague acknowledged that he did not know Anthony Cartwright personally but had, indeed, heard of him as they had both applied for the same post in 1954: a research fellowship at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.

Sidney began by asking how much their fields of scientific enquiry overlapped and if his friend could throw any light on Anthony Cartwright’s desire to build a resonator circuit and his work in the United States.

‘The Americans are ahead of us here, constructing microwave amplifiers, quantum oscillators and infrared lasers, so he’s on to something. But who is funding his trips across the Atlantic and all his lab work? I wonder if it’s Bell Labs, or an American university like Columbia? A few physicists even have their research specifically funded by private donation.’

‘That would be Amanda.’

‘Miss Kendall? Forgive me, Sidney, I know she is a formidable woman but surely she is no expert in quantum mechanics?’

‘Indeed not.’

Neville Meldrum was sufficiently surprised to distract himself with a course of action over which he had immediate control. He began to sort through his lecture notes in preparation for the next set of undergraduates. ‘I’m sure Cartwright’s intentions are honourable,’ he said to himself.

‘Are you?’

Neville looked up. ‘No, of course I’m not, Sidney. I’m just saying so to be polite, although I can’t quite imagine a man marrying a woman simply to fund his research.’

‘People do marry for money, Neville.’

‘Yes, I suppose they do.’

Sidney guessed that his colleague was holding something back. ‘What is it, Neville?’

‘The odd thing is that I thought Cartwright was married already.’ He checked his notes once more. ‘Perhaps the wife died.’

‘They certainly haven’t said anything about that to me.’

‘You would think they might mention it. It is peculiar if he hasn’t, don’t you think? I’m pretty sure they lived in Cornwall for a while. I think she breeds dogs. She was definitely Cornish. I remember hearing people say that she was quite fierce about it; wanted independence for the county and said she’d never wanted to leave – which is a bit of a handicap if you are an astrophysicist. There aren’t too many opportunities for them in Cornwall.’

‘There’s Exeter, I suppose, but that’s in Devon.’

‘The curious thing is that when he went to London I think they bought a place in King’s Lynn. I’ve no idea why. Perhaps she couldn’t face living in the capital. Although if you’re going to live in King’s Lynn you might as well be in Cornwall. You’d probably get more visitors.’

‘This is very alarming,’ Sidney replied. ‘How easy do you think it would be to find out if he’s still married to her? I don’t want Amanda to enter into a bigamous marriage.’

‘Indeed not,’ said Professor Meldrum, before adding a thought that had, as yet, remained unspoken. ‘Then Cartwright really would have to be in two places at the same time.’

On the Saturday Amanda was singing in a late-afternoon concert given by the Bach Choir at the Festival Hall and she persuaded Sidney to join both her and Tony Cartwright for drinks afterwards. There were, she informed him, quite a few matters to discuss, not least the amount of time he thought it necessary to give to religious preparation before the wedding.

‘I don’t know why we’re having to go through all this so thoroughly. It’s lovely that you want to see us but we can’t all be as religious as you, Sidney.’

‘Sometimes I feel I’m not religious enough – but we’re not here to talk about me.’

Cartwright went to the bar to order the drinks. Alone together for the first time since the engagement, Amanda was keen to seek Sidney’s approval. ‘Isn’t Tony marvellous?’ she asked him.

‘He’s certainly very intelligent,’ Sidney replied. ‘An original choice.’

‘You were expecting one of my posh friends whom you automatically assume to be dim?’

‘I had no expectations in that matter, I promise. But you’ve surprised us all. I hope you’ll be very happy together.’

‘I’m glad you approve.’

‘It does seem quite a hasty decision, Amanda.’

‘I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re implying.’

‘No. It’s not that.’

‘Then what is the matter? I can tell that you are holding back.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Sidney lied.

‘I’m not getting any younger . . .’

‘Do you think you know each other well enough?’ Sidney asked. ‘Have you met his family and friends? Do you know what he really believes? Has he been involved with anyone else? What do you think he is looking for in a relationship?’

‘Goodness, Sidney, those are far too many questions to answer all in one go. We love each other. Isn’t that enough?’

‘It’s only that I’ve always thought that love needs strong foundations. You have to make sure they are secure before you build a marriage.’

Amanda could see that Tony was paying for the drinks and was about to return. ‘Yes, of course, Sidney, I understand all that. It’s very odd, isn’t it, you doling out all this marital advice without being married yourself?’

‘I am aware of my limitations.’

‘Perhaps you’ll know soon enough. Tony and I are expecting to come to Germany in the next year or two,’ she said, impishly.

‘You’ve told him about Hildegard?’

‘I had to assure Tony you were a man with your heart in the right place.’ Cartwright was smiling as he returned with the drinks. ‘He thought you were a pansy.’ Amanda looked dotingly towards her fiancé. ‘Didn’t you, darling?’

Sidney was badly in need of Geordie Keating’s advice but when they next met for their regular night of backgammon in the Eagle his friend was out of sorts. His eldest daughter, Maggie, was walking out with her first boyfriend and the inspector was struggling to come to terms with it.

‘It’s the end of childhood,’ he complained. ‘Maggie’s not my little girl any more. I wish she was still seven.’

‘We cannot halt the advance of time, Geordie. In a year or two, I’m sure you’ll both still love each other. And you’ll always be her dad.’

‘But I have no influence on her any more. It’s all Davie, Davie, Davie . . .’

‘And what does Davie do?’

‘Nothing that’s going to make any money. He wants to be some kind of pop singer. They asked me for the cash to get a coach to Liverpool. Apparently it’s all happening up there. She’s only sixteen so I said no. What do they think they’re playing at?’

‘You don’t want her running away. She might do that, you know.’

‘Are you suggesting I should just approve of the whole thing and go along with it?’

‘I am suggesting that you do not fall out with her. That is a very different thing. She is still more dependent on you than she will admit, either in public or to you. Try not to lose your temper, Geordie, and be patient. They come back to you in the end.’

‘I don’t know how you know all this.’

‘I do have a sister.’

‘The one that shares a flat with Miss Kendall? How’s she getting on, by the way?’

‘That is what I wanted to talk to you about.’

Sidney explained the situation and Keating listened attentively. After finishing one pint and starting a second he was ready to pass judgement. ‘It might be worth having a word with Miss Kendall’s parents: find out what they think of Cartwright. No father is going to give his entire approval to his daughter’s choice and if he’s got any sense he’ll hold some money back. Do you know his lawyer?’

‘I don’t think I can investigate the family finances.’

‘You can get an idea. What will happen when Amanda’s father dies? Or rather, both parents? What if they had a car accident or something like that?’

‘You don’t think that this is a deliberate plot that eventually involves the murder of Amanda’s parents, do you?’

‘No, of course not. Although . . .’

‘You are already becoming even more suspicious than I am.’

‘That’s the ABC of crime investigation, Sidney. Assume nothing. Believe nobody. Check everything. And there’s also D – for dosh. It always finds its way in there somehow. You could then find out how much the old man is going to shell out once his daughter marries (there’s often a clause in the trust fund) and how much he is holding back. You could ask him about his will, if he’s made one and if his children have seen it. Miss Kendall has a brother, I believe.’

‘He married a divorcee and is in disgrace with his parents.’

‘So much so that he’s been cut off? It would be helpful to find out if Miss Kendall is the sole beneficiary. How much do you think Sir Cecil is worth?’

Sidney thought for a moment. ‘He must be a millionaire. There’s the large house in Chelsea and they’ve also got somewhere in Monte Carlo.’

‘If you ask me it could be interesting to find out how much it costs to build a new science laboratory and, indeed, to support an existing wife.’

‘It’s a delicate matter.’

‘You must let me know if there is anything the police can do.’

‘That’s very kind but I don’t want you getting involved. It’s a London matter and you have plenty to do here.’

‘I know that, Sidney, but I like Miss Kendall very much. I don’t want to see her life ruined.’

‘Ruined? You would put it as strongly as that?’

‘If Cartwright’s after her money, if he’s married already, or if he’s simply an out and out bastard, then we need to conduct some enquiries.’

Sidney was touched by his friend’s vehemence but was worried about tactics. Could he manage to make Amanda see the error of her ways, or was he being unreasonable in suspecting Cartwright of such base motives? The next stage was surely to submit them to closer questioning when they came to the vicarage. He would talk to them about their future life together, and try to use the idea of a shared existence to ask how they planned to run their financial affairs.

‘The important word,’ he began, ‘is “sharing”. Through marriage the two of you become one; no longer single, but a newly created joint identity that combines the best that you both have to offer.’

Amanda was still defensive and brittle, batting away searching questions with jokes. ‘My looks and his brains, you mean.’

‘No, I don’t mean that.’

‘Rather than my looks and her brains?’ Cartwright added. He seemed bored.

Sidney tried again. ‘It’s more a case of mutual understanding. You have the same common values, the same ethical ambition, a shared outlook on life.’

‘Are you suggesting my values are “common”?’ Amanda laughed nervously.

‘This is no time to be frivolous. Marriage is a serious and sacred step in which you acknowledge both God’s love and your love for each other. It requires you to be less selfish. You have to put the other person first.’